


New Year's Eve

by TariTheNurse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 03:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18112727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TariTheNurse/pseuds/TariTheNurse
Summary: Your life took a turn for the better when you became an Avenger. They are your friends. Team mates. They make your life better and your smile brighter...and one makes a potentially simpler life harder than you had planned.





	New Year's Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about bad spelling/grammar. My brain isn't letting me find mistakes at the moment, but I still wanted to share this after finally having refound and completed it...it's waited since December 2017, so I thought it was about time.

”The party of the year”, had been the way Tony described it when he secured your attendance for his New Years bash more than two months ago. Since then, you’d only heard rumours about the plans, and you’d been too preoccupied about getting through your solo-mission to spare a thought. That’s why you’d more than happily accepted when Wanda and Natasha had offered to sort whatever was needed that night.

Leaning back in the car seat, you really hope your two friends and co-Avengers have kept their end of the promise, whatever it might entail. No texts or calls have come your way which had been rather relaxing. For a while. Now not so much. Both Wanda and Nat are perfectly capable of being reasonable adult with common sense, but sometimes they end up in a mood where they wind each other up. Add Clint to the mix and the result will be disastrous, yet brilliant, pranking. For all you know, you might be on the way back to a cellophane covered room and a New Year’s outfit suitable for disguising the wearer as a flamingo.

…

Even after very careful inspection of your rooms, you’ve not been able to find any pranks lurking. And the outfit? It couldn’t have been better which is good because a few hours from arrival to party-start wouldn’t have left you with a whole lot of option. Why not re-use a dress or something? That’s what you normally would, but in usual Stark style the party has to be themed and this time it’s “animals” – hence the worry about the flamingo. But you’re in luck and the outfit is perfect.

_More than perfect,_ you admit to yourself as you smooth a hand over the tightfitting number you’ve wriggled into. Tiny, faux scales in an oily-black shade is covering your body, only broken by the plunging cleavage and daring slit at along the thigh and a series of red accents that shimmer like fire across you chest and hips. Unfortunately, it does little to steel your nerves. _It’s too…too…little!_ You feel exposed, naked.

A knock on the door barely precedes Natasha and Wanda who come barging in. They’re ready to go (one as a tiger and the other representing her alias’ namesake) and are here to put the last touches to their plan.

…

“I feel…like someone else! _”_

The woman staring back at you from the mirror is perfect. Dark makeup compliments the outfit (normally you’d only go as wild as mascara), and the usually unruly hair has been tamed into a surprisingly long, sleek braid that on its own looks like the snake you symbolize.

“You don’t like it?” Wanda cocks her head, causing the plushy tiger-ears to wobble endearingly.

You frown at the mirror. “I…I do! It’s just so…not how I normally look…” _Do you?_ “That there,” you gesture helplessly, “she’s…I mean…hot and I’m not.”

“Jeez, good thing we got you sorted then.” Natasha’s adjusting the red/black corset one last time but spares a glance in your direction. “It’s about time you see what _every_ one else sees.”

_Everyone?_ There’s no room in your head to consider the possible implications of that, so you try to ignore the hot bubble of nerves in your stomach. _It’s just Nat and Wanda saying it._ They’re your friends. Supportive, sweet, honest…but not objective. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if a couple of the guys would claim you were pretty either. Like Tony, he compliments anyone he meets on their outfits or whatnot (even if there’s nothing new about it), and Thor and Steve are the biggest sweetheart although one is quiet and the other is boisterous about it. _Yeah, but what about Sam._ And there you go, thinking exactly what you didn’t want to.

Sam used to be your friend. A buddy you hung out with and who showed you the ropes when you joined the Avengers. You still try to do that, but each moment around him is close to painful because you don’t see him as a casual friend anymore. You should because that’s what you guys are…but it’s not enough. What you feel for him is so much more. Trusting him with your life would be the easiest thing. And there’s no limit to what you’d do for him both in the field and outside to make sure he is safe and happy. _Fuck._

“Hey! Viper, where you at?” Nat’s voice reaches through the swirling thoughts.

Both ladies are waiting at the open door, ready to head out. Mumbling an apology, you hurry after them, hoping they don’t notice your quickened breath and pulse.

“Why a black snake?” Standing in the elevator, it’s only now that it strikes you as odd. “I mean…as Viper it would make sense to use that for the animal tonight.”

“People might get suspicious,” Wanda shrugs, busy inspecting her nails.

Nat’s busy looking for something in her tiny purse but manages to talk past a thin knife: “Bwe’ide, ‘omeone elwe claimed it.”

…

You’d been lucky that there already were plenty people at the venue, meaning you could snake in between the other guests and head straight for the bar (ditching your friends at the same time).

“Gin ‘n tonic, please.”

Waiting for the drink, you look around the place. It’s busy, both at the bar running the length of the ball room, but also at the place in general. Hundreds of people are milling about, snatching canapés from trays carried by various birds (not actual birds, but waiters dressed as flamingos, cranes and so on). Huge tables with champagne pyramids is the only “classic” New Year’s theme while the place has been invaded by what appears to be an entire jungle. Lush green plants and exotic flowers create section in the large area while trees and hanging plants mingle above the heads of the guests, infiltrating the chandeliers to the point where you don’t think they will ever get free again.

“There y’are!” Nat’s smoky voice curls around you together with your arm. “Found the others by the palm trees. Steve’s a cat with yarn and all.”

It’s impossible not to take than bait, so you let her lead the way as soon as you got the cool drink in hand. They’re a sight to behold. Not just Steve the Kitten, but also Tony the Unicorn (sporting a long horn with which he attempts to skewer hors d’oeuvres when Pepper the Peacock isn’t looking) and well, probably everyone, but of course your mind is being silly and making sure to get stuck on the sight of the one person you shouldn’t watch.

_Hot damn._ Green scales glitter in the light as they adorn Sam’s suit, making it looks as if a viper’s curling around his body in a way you wouldn’t mind mimicking. _No! I shouldn’t think that._ At least he hasn’t noticed you because he’s too busy examining the rear end of Tony.

“You installed cooling?” His warm voice muffled by the fake tail hanging down.

“Wha’?! He’s got air-con?!” An edge of betrayal is powering Rhodes’ disbelief. “Man, you said I couldn’t get my exo cooled!” Hurrying over to take a look through Stark’s rear, he pushes Sam aside.

“Hey! Wa–” But Sam never gets further.

His eyes are scorching your skin but it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. Out of sheer nervousness, you fidget with the metal straw in the drink, almost inhaling the clear liquid. Suddenly, the dress is too revealing, causing your guts to clench in a desperate plea for hiding, but the moment you try to move to get a bit behind Nat and Bucky, you feel the air breeze through the slit. _Shit._ Heat is rushing through your body.

“You’re looking good.” It’s Steve. “Like what Wanda and Nat have done, sticking with the venomous snake theme.” His friendly chuckle helps you soften up a bit as memories of your old life flashes by.

Growing up in the slums in the biggest city in South America had taught you a lot – even more so during the hardest periods where you stole away to survive in the jungle instead, figuring it was safer than being near the gangs and drug cartels. In hindsight, neither option could’ve been considered safe, but that was at least you learned enough to eventually take up the fight. Try to protect innocent people from the violent crime lords. That’s how you’d gotten onto the Avengers’ radar. Why they came to capture you. It was a good thing Clint had been there on that trip because he convinced the others to bring you back.

“Thanks. Feels odd not to wear something more…practical.”

A broad smile flashes. “I get it. Penguin suits are fine, but they aren’t made for moving.”

“That too.” _Need to get away._ “’Scuse me.”

Slipping away between the myriad of guests, you circle the room once while pretending to admire the decorations. In reality, you’re scoping the place for quiet corners and easy escape routes. But soon enough your feet are carrying you back to the bar for a refill. From there it’s possible to see most of the room…including the random flashes of a familiar green. _My colour._

…

_How can it not be near midnight?!_ It’s never been this awkward hanging out with the team. Sure, the chatting and fun is still going on…it’s just you that finds it hard to feel comfortable in your own skin as long as your near Sam. You’d tried talking to him, pretending everything’s fine. Normal. No unrequited love tearing you up from the inside, making it feel like someone has dripped your old venoms straight into your heart.

So you try to spend your time on the dance floor where no one expects you to carry on a conversation as you can lose yourself in the rhythms. Otherwise it’s the bar that calls, luring you with cold G&Ts until your head is buzzing comfortably. Not drunk…because you never know what can happen. _4 th of July was bad,_ you remember, pushing the ice cubes around in the tall glass.

A delicate but strong hand clamps onto your shoulder, startling you.

“Relax, hon, just me.” The redhead takes a seat beside you. “Do you want me to ask or are you just gonna talk?”

“’Bout what?”

You don’t even have to look at her to know she’s rolling the eyes. “Why you moping.”

“Oh.” The straw clinks against your teeth. _She’s bluffing._ “Ask away. Doesn’t mean I got anything to tell.”

Somehow managing not to spill the martini, Nat whips around to face you. “Right, of course not. ‘Cause it’s not like you’ve been harbouring a huge crush on a special gentleman.” Your glare doesn’t discourage her. “Maybe you should consider _why_ the viper was taken so quickly.” And with that she floats away, drink in one hand and hips swaying elegantly to the music.

…

Dancing with Steve is an interesting experience: as physically gifted as he may be, this is one thing he has a hard time getting the hang on although he does his best to follow your instructions while both of you are grinning like fools, the ending of the song still brings a certain relief. Until you turn around straight into Sam’s arms. For a second, he seems just as baffled as you do, but then his trademark crooked grin lights up his face.

“Guess there’s no way about it now…wanna dance?” A warm hand is already skimming along your hip although the other waits for your decision.

It’s odd how perfectly his fingers fit around yours, how his arms seem to create a bubble of calmness that seeps into you until your breath is even and your heartbeat follows an unheard rhythm. Fingers with blood-red nails slither across venomous-green faux scales until coming to a rest on Sam’s shoulder.

“Didn’t know you liked that colour.” It looks amazing on him. “You should use it in your uniform.”

They’re playing an old Frank Sinatra song that you’ve heard a million times, allowing your brain to switch off and Sam to lead you effortlessly.

“I’ve thought about it…didn’t wanna to steal from you, tho’.”

He twirls you in his arms before dipping you, causing your heart to pound rapidly against the ribs so hard he might hear it (especially considering how close to your cleavage his ear is). _Not like you haven’t stolen anything already._

“Oh, is that so?” Pulling you back up, chest against chest, it’s evident that you must have spoken your thoughts. “What’d I steal, babe?”

_Babe._ Sure, he’s used nicknames before. He’s the master of thinking up witty monikers for everyone on the team and failing that there’s always the classical endearments which he freely uses for everyone. This time, though, it’s spoken in a soft purr that makes it sound anything like the usual banter. You can’t take your eyes off him as your try to kick your brain back into action. A quick sweep of the tongue to get your mouth working brings back the taste of lipstick and G&T, brings Sam’s focus onto the red colour adorning your lips and his eyes darken momentarily.

_Maybe you should consider why the viper was taken so quickly._ Nat’s words echo in your mind and small details that you’ve never really given much thought start to fall into place. The way Sam always makes sure there’s a spot on the couch on movie nights, or how he somehow checks in a bit more frequently on missions than with the others. He even knows how you like your tea and coffee, despite the fact that you aren’t sure yourself.

“Sam…” you bite your bottom lip, still nervous.

“[Y/N]?”

Somewhere outside the bubble he’s created, the music is still playing, and people are getting closer to the new year, but inside, it’s just the two of you standing closer than humanly possible, allowing your lips to brush easily over his. Maybe the soft sigh is from him, it doesn’t matter. Just the fact that he recaptures your lips to deepen the kiss is important. His hand travels up the back to cradle your neck, the other arm drawing you closer.

…

The party is far away across town when the new year approaches. Clothes are discarded around the familiar room as Sam looks at you from under heavy lips. His hand is resting on your head that bobs slowly in unison with your hand. Each time the tip of your tongue twirls around the crown of his cock he hums in approval and you can feel his muscles work under the free hand you’re supporting yourself with partially.

His erection twitches as moans become groans, maybe spurred on at the quiet laughter you can’t hold back. It’s exhilarating to have such power over him, but next moment it’s gone as he pulls your away. Sam’s got you on your back quicker than you’d anticipated, lips trailing hot over the goosebumps covering your body and then…then he’s the one in control as mouth, tongue and fingers play you like an instrument, coaxing sounds from you that increasingly sound like his name. Sound like begging.

Your limbs are shaking when he pulls you onto his lap. Hands on your hips, the gorgeous man allows you to set the pace after he has aligned the throbbing cock with your wet core, and as you finally glide down the shaft, as he fills you up more than anyone has before, both of you cling on.

Open mouths breathing hard. Sweat glistening on skin. Moans. Strangled cries of pleasure. Partially suspended above your arching body, your name tumbles from Sam’s lips while his hips rock into you. Harder, faster. Your legs are on the verge of cramping from the iron hold around his waist, ankles locking behind his backs while your nails are digging into his shoulder blades.

Outside the window, fireworks light up the night sky, their explosions nearly drowned out by his name as you both tumble over the edge and into the hazy sea of bliss.


End file.
